Tonight, everything would change.

Tonight, almost one month after accepting to learn an unforgivable curse, she would get to cast it on someone.

Her hands were shaking, whether it was due to apprehension or impatience. She couldn't tell the difference. Yasmina looked at the clock over professor Merrythought desk; it was already three in the afternoon.

She had learned the theory and had found Tom to be an excellent teacher. They had practiced the spell together a few times in the past weeks. Yasmina let her thoughts transport her back to that time, in the living room of their apartment, when that yellow smoke had emerged from her wand for the first time.

Tom had smiled at her impeccable pronunciation. "You're ready. Now we need someone for you to practice on."

"Sure," she had answered, ironically. "Do you want me to hide in the dungeons to try it on the next first year that'll come alone or will you take care of it and bring someone in here?"

"Neither." He answered, nonetheless failing to conceal the amused smile on the corner of his lips. "Let me think about it. I'll come back to you with a solution."

He had indeed come back to her this very morning, right after she had jumped out of the bathroom.

"I've arranged something for you." He had said. "At 11 tonight, wait in the alley next to the Hog's head. You know the passageway to get there?" She had nodded. "Good. Someone will come for you."

"Why can't you escort me there?"

"I need to leave earlier. I've got to meet a couple of friends before."

Yasmina couldn't help herself. "Why do you meet your friends outside of school at night?"

"You'll see. Don't worry," he had added, slightly pressing her shoulder. "I know you can do it."

Somehow, his reassuring smile had left her even more anxious. Of course, she was willing to learn the spell. The more she thought about it, the more she desired to master it. She wasn't scared of trying.

She was scared of failing, of disappointing him.

Tom had spent so much time in the past weeks trying to teach her the correct way to use this spell that she felt like she owed it to him to succeed in casting it. She wanted to please him as much as he was pleasing her.

Because he constantly was.

And his mouth was not only talented for words and spells.

The loud sound of wooden chairs scraping against the floor pulled her out of her thoughts, back to reality. Around her, students were standing up to practice a new spell. The Head girl took a look around her and noticed the different stations her teacher had put in place.

"Here you'll get to practice the levitating spell. At the door, you may try Alohomora. Don't be too hard on yourself, though." Yasmina frowned. Then, the teacher added: "Please leave your wands on my desk so that I can see you're not using them."

Wandless magic. That's what they were practicing today. Yasmina wished she hadn't spent the whole class lost in her thoughts. She had absolutely no idea where to start.

To nobody's surprise, Tom was the first one to succeed in casting a spell without his wand. Yasmina wasn't impressed. She had seen Tom make wandless magic countless times in the past with much more difficult spells.

Imitating her colleagues, Yasmina tried a few things, but she wasn't successful. After twenty minutes, several students had been able to either levitate small objects on a short distance or unlock the door.

"Let's team you up," Merrythought announced. "Those who haven't been able to cast a spell without their wand, please join a student who has succeeded."

Tom joined her an instant later. She loudly sighed, annoyed. "Is your mind elsewhere, sweetheart?" he said.

"I can't make the bloody cushion move," Yasmina replied. "I don't know how to do it without my wand, I feel ridiculous waving my hands like this."

"A wand is only a catalyzer. Wizards can do magic without it. Now try."

Nothing happened.

"That's okay, it took me a few times before being comfortable. Don't worry."

"When did you learn it?"

Tom shrugged nonchalantly like it wasn't a big deal, but the cocky smile on his mouth said otherwise. "Third year."

"For God's sake! Is there anything you haven't mastered yet?" Yasmina replied, annoyed at his irritating perfection.

Staring at her from the corner of his eyes, Tom made the cushion levitate up to the ceiling. "Oh, there are several things I am still experimenting with. For some of them, you definitely are the one who can tell if I have mastered them."

His words, said in a conversational tone, were spoken loudly, too loudly. Besides them, Rosier and Nott, who were partnering up, stopped what they were doing. She exchanged a glance with Nott, who seemed torn between amusement and the powerfulness of knowing something that could destroy her whole family's reputation. Another scandal to add to the list.

By the heat on her face, she knew she was flustered. What was wrong with him, saying those kinds of improper things in the middle of the classroom?

"Bloody Hell, Tom," Yasmina said, loud enough for Nott to overhear. "Be careful about how you phrase things. We don't want any of your pureblood friends to get the wrong ideas."

Tom understood. "You're right. I wouldn't want any of these families to doubt the..." he hesitated, smirking, "pureness of yours." His tone was serious, but his eyes were shining with something different, something larger than mere desire. And that glow hadn't faded since that day she had told him she would try to learn the unforgivable spell.

The rest of the lesson went smoothly. But either due to the evening that was awaiting her or to Tom's eager gaze, Yasmina wasn't able to cast a single spell that day.

0o0o0o0

At half-past nine, Yasmina left her apartment and climbed the marbled staircase, just like Tom had indicated. The castle was of course deserted since it was thirty minutes past the curfew. The only person she met on her journey was professor Merrythought, but as it was Yasmina's patrolling night, the teacher merely acknowledged her before entering her quarters.

Once she reached the mirror on the fourth floor, the Head girl pressed a hand against it, and almost instantly, she entered the passageway. In about an hour, she would reach a cave near Hogsmeade and would need another five minutes to get to the meeting points. The more she walked, the more anxious she felt. But she didn't turn back and somehow, she felt like this long walk by herself was also a test she needed to pass in order to be able to cast that spell.

The cave in which she entered at the end of the passageway was cold and deserted, but she didn't linger, as the sound of the raging wind outside left her increasingly uneasy. Bent over, the Head girl fought against the wind and finally reached the Hog's head, panting. She took shelter in the dark alley, her back against the brick wall. Without the frozen wind passing through her clothes, the night was quite beautiful. The stars over her head were shining brightly and the full moon's silver light reverberated on the snow-covered pavement.

Almost as soon as she had taken shelter, Yasmina heard soft steps being taken in her direction. She cautiously raised her wand, waiting. A dark silhouette turned the corner at the end of the alley. When he passed near the street light, she recognized him before he did her, as she was hidden in the darkness.

"Evening, Avery."

He stopped walking. "Shafiq?" She removed her hood and he cursed. Apparently, Tom hadn't told him who he was picking up. Avery then took another look at her and swore again.

Yasmina put her wand back into her pocket. "What's your problem?"

"I wasn't expecting you."

"Who were you expecting?"

"Anyone but you. Bloody hell." He ran a hand over his face. "Theodore will kill someone."

"What?"

The Slytherin shook his head, dismissing her question with his hand. "Figure of speech. Come on. We are late."

Yasmina shot him a long, sideways glance as they walked toward the end of the village, but said nothing. When they reached the end of the road, near the cave she had first arrived in, the Slytherin reached out his arm. She refused to take it. "Are we apparating somewhere? Where are you taking me?"

"I can't tell. Take my arm."

She raised an eyebrow. "Not until you tell me where we are going." She wasn't really inclined to disappear somewhere unknown with Avery for sole company.

He sighed, impatient. "Are there days when you aren't stubborn?"

"No."

He sighed again, but before she could open her mouth to protest, Avery grabbed her arm instead and apparated them away.

Yasmina's feet hit the ground hard and she rapidly took a look around her. They were standing in the middle of a road. The wind was almost inexistent here, which meant that they were far from Hogsmeade. In the distance, the lights of a town flickered in the night. Avery took the gravel road next to them that seemed to lead to nowhere.

"Goodness Avery! I told you I didn't want to apparate! Where are we?" Yasmina protested, nonetheless following him, trying to keep up with his fast pace.

"Dammit, Shafiq. Tom asked me to get you. Can you please stop asking incessant questions? We need to get there before 11h30."

Yasmina grumbled but did not add anything else and they walked in silence. When the main road disappeared in the darkness behind them and they were surrounded by nothing but silence, Avery cleared his throat.

"Why did Tom want you to come tonight? Are you learning something?"

Yasmina stared at the young man. Somehow, his questions comforted her. So Tom teaching spells to Hogwarts students wasn't uncommon. "The Imperius curse," she admitted and as an answer, Avery only looked down on her. She scoffed. "Don't patronize me; I'm sure you've done way worse! And it is only for academic purposes. I am curious about my magical abilities."

"Of course, Shafiq. Everything we do for Tom is for academic purposes."

She could detect the irony in his voice. "I am not learning it for Tom. I am doing this for me."

They reached a junction in the road and Yasmina stopped. Without decelerating, Avery chose the right path, connoisseur. "Of course, Shafiq, whatever makes you feel better," he repeated in the same tone, leading the way.

0o0o0o0

Outside the dirty window, the full moon was lighting the small town with its silver light. Tom took a look through it, but still, nobody was in sight. Avery was late, but yet, it wasn't surprising. Tom had known the girl long enough to know that she wouldn't simply follow him without asking a thousand questions.

He rose from his chair but leaned casually on the armrest. The group fell silent as everybody was patiently waiting for him to talk. "I've got some good news for you tonight. First, with the gracious help of Abraxas, the Malfoy family has agreed to join our cause and Mr. Malfoy will be our eyes and ears inside the Wizengamot."

Tom took a calculated pause and let his eyes scan the small group of people in front of him. All of them were giving him their full attention, with the exception of Theodore, whose eyes were riveted on the ground. Tom refrained from smiling, anticipating the reaction of the Slytherin after his next announcement. This is what you get for trying to meddle with my things, Lestrange. The Head boy twisted his wand between his fingers, shooting a glance outside the window, and started to talk again, nonchalantly. "Also, someone else will be joining us tonight. As a matter of fact, Avery will be back soon with our newest acquisition. He should bring her here in a few minutes. Meanwhile…"

"Her?"

Tom sighed. "Yes, Mulciber, she's a her."

"I thought you said she was too young," Rosier asserted with a frown.

"Your sister Druella won't be the one to join us tonight. Yasmina Shafiq will."

A wand fell on the floor. All eyes darted to Theodore, who looked like he had been stomped on by a horde of Hippogriffs. Tom dared him to speak up his mind, but Theodore remained silent.

Good. He had finally learned how to behave.

Nothing a few crucios can't fix.

"Meanwhile," Tom said slowly, still staring at Theodore, "I want you all to continue your usual business. We have some plans to work on and I expect you to continue listing possible supporters for our cause and ways to… convince them." He paused and waited until everyone was carefully listening to his words. "Now, she isn't one of us yet, so refrain from being vocal about what you're doing here tonight. There's a test I want her to pass. Is that clear?"

They all nodded in silence. A number of young men didn't seem really pleased by this revelation. They knew what a test mean. And they were aware that some of them wouldn't leave the room unscathed tonight.

A few moments later, the door opened on Avery and the Head girl, both disheveled by the wind outside. They seemed to have argued because they walked away from each other as soon as the door closed. Yasmina scanned the room and Tom saw she gripped her wand a bit more strongly. At least she had some survival instinct…

Tom carefully examined their reactions. He didn't miss anything. Not the way Avery rushed to Theodore as soon as he passed the doorframe. Not the salacious comment Rosier murmured into Mulciber's ear, who shot a disgusted look at the Gryffindor. Not even the quick glance she and Theodore exchanged before he bowed his head. No, Tom noticed absolutely everything.

She was uncomfortable, yet her chin was up and she sustained every gaze shot in her direction. He almost smiled.

So strong, so confident.

Yet so fragile.

"Up to work, everyone. Yasmina, sweetheart, come here."

The Gryffindor walked up to him, but stayed down the steps, where she belonged. Good. She already knew her place.

She snorted. "A throne? Really? That's way too pretentious, even for you, Tom."

She was playing a dangerous game, but she would learn, in time, how to behave in public. He ignored her blatant disrespect, reaching out. "Come."

The girl walked up the few stairs and joined him, intertwining her fingers with his. Tom stood up from his seat and ran his fingers through her long hair, bringing her closer. The perfume she wore blurred his sense for a few seconds and he had to resist the urge of breathing in her sent in lungfuls. He was ravenous. She had gotten all dressed up for him, her red blazer matching the paint on her lips.

"How was your night?"

"Uneventful, Tom. What are you all doing here?" She asked instead, undistracted, taking a look around. "Aren't there enough rooms at Hogwarts in which you could hold your little meetings?

"Hogwarts isn't a safe place to learn what isn't in schoolbooks."

"So that's what you're all doing here? Learning dark magic?" Yasmina wondered, brows furrowed in incomprehension.

"Not exactly. You will learn in time. I could get used to having you around," he admitted, helping his hand up under her shirt, softly brushing his knuckles against the soft skin of her stomach. "Now, who do you want to practice the Imperius curse on?"

"You mean who in this room? You want me to curse one of your friends?" she exclaimed in disbelief.

A few men raised their heads to look at them, but Tom shot them a warning look and they went back to their work.

"I've told you this before. I trust you will do what is needed for you to learn. Just give me a name."

"I don't understand, are you sure this –"

"A name, Yasmina."

She looked at the young men dispersed in the room in small groups. Her eyes stopped on the one completely on the right. "You should know that answer."

"Of course, I know," he whispered to her. "Mulciber, come here."

The color drained from his face when he was called and he moved forward, unusually modest. Tom slightly pushed her forward so she went down the steps to meet Mulciber. Now, the fun would begin. Tom sat back down, legs crossed, rotating his ring and leaning back in his chair as Yasmina stared at Mulciber with disdain. He returned her a haughty look, but Tom could see he was scared of her. Rightly so.

"You know the word, sweetheart. We've practiced it. Now make him apologize for the way he has been treating you."

Several heads were now turned in their direction. Tom didn't tell them to go back to work. They had to see her perform so that nobody would threaten her again. On the other side of the room, Theodore looked like he was going to throw up. The Head boy suppressed another grin.

"Tom", Mulciber pleaded pointlessly.

But Tom raised a hand, silencing him. His dark eyes were stuck on her, patiently waiting. He wanted to see the darkness in her eyes as she cast the spell. He wanted to witness the exact moment she turned on her past values.

Everybody fell silent when she raised her wand and pointed it at Mulciber, who rightfully flinched.

"Imperio"

Fear left Mulciber's face at once. His blank eyes contrasted with the fury in hers. Tom would've kissed her right here in the middle of the room if he hadn't been so curious about what she was going to say next. She had embraced the dark arts just with a flick of her wand. It was like she had jumped into the ocean without having dipped her toes to test the water. She already knew the water would be warm and comfortable.

No matter what everyone said, that girl was made to fulfill his every desire. The crimson on her tie or the darkness of her skin meant absolutely nothing. The only color that mattered was the pure red of her blood.

"Apologize to me for being a macho caveman," she commanded in a voice so cold that Tom noticed a few of his friends repress a chill down their spine. "On your knees."

Perfect. She was perfect.

He wanted her.

He wanted her to pledge allegiance to him and make the unbreakable vow that would link her to him until she died. He was craving to have her on her knees, at his mercy, pleading for another of his touch. Perhaps, only then, he would oblige her.

She was his.

Mulciber fell on his knees and babbled quick and incoherent apologies. Tom pushed aside the irrational and lustful thoughts and granted the Head girl a considerate smile. "Good, good, Yasmina. I knew you had it in you. It went well, especially for a first attempt."

She seemed pleased, but most of all relieved. She had expected something disastrous to happen. But the dark arts were nothing more than deliciously attractive. There was nothing wrong with the so-called unforgivable curses.

Tom broke the spell on Mulciber. "Go back to what you were doing." The Slytherin left them quickly, wishing to avoid being a guinea pig for their future experimentations.

"Is that all?" she asked. "Don't I get to practice more?"

Tom walked down to her, repressing the satisfactory grin that insisted to appear on his lips again. If she did join them, he would have to work on his composure. She was a liability. "Of course, you get to practice more. This is why you're here. Mulciber was the easy first try."

Again, the voices faded and everyone's attention turned to them. "Theodore," Tom called without even looking over his shoulder for him. "Why don't you come over here? Yasmina needs someone else to practice on."

She glared at him. "What are you playing at?"

So strong, so confident.

Yet so fragile.

Tom's finger brushed against the skin of her cheek. "It won't always be easy. You have to learn to cast it under any circumstances, not only when you have grievances against someone."

The Head boy went back up to his seat and waited. He didn't have to talk; she knew what she had to do.

If she failed that test, she would never join him.

Even though they weren't supposed to, the others were watching attentively. They remembered Theodore's screams.

"Don't bring her in," he had pleaded. "Take what you want from her and leave her alone," he had begged, on his knees. He had dared contradict him in front of everyone, again. He had paid, that time. Since then, Theodore has been very quiet. But his words still resonated in Tom's mind.

A few crucios always loosened tongues. "Yes, I love her," he had admitted under the force of his spell. He had cried like the children at the orphanage when Tom had had his fun with them. The only movement Theodore had been able to do after that meeting was to wipe his tears angrily off his face.

He had learned his place.

Yet, Yasmina's wand was still against her thigh. She was staring at him so intensely that Tom felt the harsh jealousy clouding his judgment again.

"Go on. We don't have all night," he said sternly.

"Imperio," the Gryffindor finally whispered, though her wand was steady. Theodore's face went blank, expressionless. She remained silent for a long, long time, considering the options, and analyzing the best course of action.

"Go run half a mile outside and come back once you're done. Don't be seen."

Immediately, Theodore went outside and when the door shut with the wind, there were traces of tears in her eyes.

Tom didn't even need to enter her mind to know she was on the edge of breaking down. Her mental barriers would shatter with the slightest push. The slightest caress.

Weak. Humans were so weak.

Nevertheless, she had passed her test. Tom reached out a hand to her and she climbed the stairs to grab it.

"Good. I knew you would be able to do it. How do you feel?"

"Weird," she answered. "Tired."

Tom smiled reassuringly "This is normal. Avery will accompany you back to Hogsmeade so you can go back to the castle to rest."

The door opened on Theodore, his face red with effort. The Head girl broke the spell on him and he ignored her, going back to his work.

"So that's all for tonight?" she asked, relieved, her eyes still on Theodore.

Tom turned her head towards him, grabbing her chin. "Yes, we are done for now. I'll join you later." His fingers slowly slid down her neck. He smiled at her loud breathing, perfectly conscious that everyone was listening to them. Tom nonetheless felt like he needed to be more explicit in his request. "Leave your door unlocked."

Unsurprisingly, her eyes were dark with desire. She was so focused on him that she didn't hear the teasing, whispered comments of the others, nor did she see the absolute murdering glance Theodore shot them at that very moment. All she saw was Tom, all she heard was the luscious words he recited in her ear, and all she felt was his fingers on her skin. Tom knew her mind was possessed by that first time casting dark magic and she would feel that way for at least a week.

Dark magic wasn't only seductive because of the taboo surrounding it. Dark magic left the body craving for more, and that feeling was remarkably similar to lust and desire. A novice like her could definitely not tell the difference.

Perhaps he could take advantage of it. He had told her to keep her door unlocked only to enrage Theodore, but now that he was thinking about it… It would be a pity to let such an advantageous situation goes to waste. And Tom was greedy.

Avery and her exited, but before she went through the door, the Gryffindor threw Tom such a heated look that he nearly left with her instead. Nearly.

"I know that look, my lord," Nott commented with a teasing grin. "Do you want to adjourn our meeting sooner?"

"Tempting," the Head boy commented, "but no, we have work to do. She will have to wait for me."

In the back of the room, an ink container exploded on the floor.

Tom's fingers closed on his yew wand in anticipation. Finally.

0o0o0o0

Next to her, Tom was lying down on his back, staring at the ceiling.

Yasmina had almost succeeded in falling asleep when he had gently knocked at her bedroom door. She had invited him in without any second thought. She couldn't stand being alone, not after such a night.

His silence was sickening her. She had expected some praise, some comfort words after what she had accomplished tonight. Yet he had said nothing and his eyes had been riveted at the ceiling for the last ten minutes. Yasmina resisted the urge of jumping on him and shaking his shoulders until he addressed her – or perhaps only jumping on him – and she closed her eyes, trying to calm her unnerving mind.

When she reopened them, she noticed he wore a small amused smirk on the corner of his mouth.

"What?"

"I was thinking about yesterday morning when Slughorn's wife stormed into the potion class."

She discreetly sighed, then smiled at how Tom would resort to gossiping to release the tension she was feeling. "Is it true she asked for a divorce in front of the students?"

"Yes. I happened to be passing by when she stormed in. I might have stayed nearby to eardrop."

"I'm not surprised," she chuckled. "It's weird to think that some of our teachers are married. They all seem so… independent."

"Most of them aren't married. I think only Merrythought is. Perhaps Dumbledore, but he doesn't have a ring."

"Nah, Dumbledore doesn't have a wife. He doesn't like women."

Tom frowned, still staring at the ceiling. "How do you know?"

Even though he had asked very calmly, Yasmina felt like he was very interested in that information. She avoided answering too precisely. "My father told me. He overheard the Auror Scamander talking about it at a government event. But I'm not supposed to talk about it."

Tom turned on his side to face her. His hand cupped her face tenderly, his thumb delicately brushing against her bottom lip. Such a loving touch. The Gryffindor closed her eyes at that unexpected gesture of tenderness. "You can share everything with me," he said in a whisper.

She hesitated. The Transfiguration professor had explicitly told her not to reveal this to Tom.

How serious would it be if she revealed it, though? What wrong could it do? Tom had shared so many things with her, so many secrets. He had shown her the darkness within him without any hesitation. The Head boy has repeatedly proven that he could be trusted, that he cared. And he hadn't talked about this secret for months, just like he had forgotten it.

For a second, she imagined what it would be to remove this burden from her shoulders. She almost sighed in relief. After all, it wasn't her secret to keep. And Dumbledore knew it too.

Perhaps it was time to talk.

"Dumbledore was Grindelwald's lover. He doesn't want to face him in battle. He doesn't want to kill him. So I don't know who's going to stop Grindelwald, but it won't be him."

Tom suddenly sat down, eyes bright open. "This… is…"

He was talking slowly as if he was carefully choosing his words.

"Huge." Yasmina completed and he nodded in approbation. "I know."

"Dumbledore is publicly telling that he will face Grindelwald and defeat him. These are all lies?" The Slytherin asked with traces of disbelief on his stunning face.

Yasmina kneeled on her bed to face him. "This is just for show, to make Grindelwald feel threatened here. He wants the wizarding community in England to feel safe, I guess."

"He's manipulating everyone. I can easily understand why he doesn't want anybody to know."

Yasmina shrugged. Dumbledore was a proven, accomplished wizard. She didn't have to know about his strategy. She guessed that he knew what he was doing. Tom, however, was still bewildered by this revelation. "Why didn't Dumbledore want you to find out about this?" Yasmina asked him

His features hardened. "Dumbledore is a scared man who despises anything that doesn't fit in his narrow mind. He doesn't trust me."

"He knows," she said, thinking about the last few hours.

Yasmina hadn't seen much, but it was enough for her to understand. The Ministry of Magic was far from being enough for Tom. Those Slytherins weren't his friends, they were his followers and they would do his every bidding.

Tom stood up from her bed, cold. "He's simply guessing."

"He isn't far from the truth, is he?"

She knew she was pushing his limits, but couldn't have guessed how badly he would react. Tom reached for her door, without even answering her question. "I should let you sleep. It's late."

The words escaped her mouth before she had the time to stop them. "I'm sorry. Don't go. Please stay."

As perceptible as he was, Tom certainly hear the implicit request in her voice. He stopped in the door frame and shot her an inquiring glance. She sustained his gaze without flinching, even if she could feel her hands getting sweaty and that hot, exquisite pressure finds its way below her stomach. It was worse, way worse than before.

Even though she was barely able to keep her head over the tsunami of emotions that had submerged her tonight, there was something else she craved.

And that something had very dark eyes.

"Stay," she murmured again and to her relief, Tom shut the door and slid back under the covers.

Yasmina stared at him, suddenly very conscious about her own body. She could feel the satin of her bedsheets brushing on her naked legs, like feathers. She crawled closer. He was cold, so cold. Yet, somehow, he wasn't. Her hand found its way through the covers to his bare chest. Warm.

His index slid under the strap of her nightgown. "You did great, tonight. I knew you would surprise me one day."

"I thought I would feel different. But I feel just the same," Yasmina murmured.

"But you're not. Everything has changed, now. Every aspiration you've had in the past is now possible; the only thing that stands between you and your destiny is the extent of your ambition." The Slytherin caressed the fine fingers that were resting against his chest and ran his hand along her arm up to her shoulder, her collarbone. She closed her eyes. "It's almost four, you must be exhausted."

An exit door. But one she wouldn't use tonight.

She shut it instantly by putting her leg over his and gifting him a flirting grin. "You're sharing my bed. I'm not tired at all."

Her voice was low yet steady. Tom crushed his mouth on hers, and flipped her on her back, pressing her body underneath his. Her already half-removed nightgown was swiftly removed and followed by their remaining clothes on the stone floor of her bedroom. When his mouth met the flushed skin of her breast and his hands gripped the tender flesh on the inside of her thighs, there was nothing else that mattered anymore.

She came alive under his touch. Her breath staggered, as lust took a hold of her and kept her prisoner underneath its corrupted grip. Tom roamed onto her skin, taking satisfaction in seeing her twitching and whimpering each time he gratified her body with another one of his carefully selected attentions. Despite everything, his touch remained insufficient, the heat deep inside her stomach burning uncontrollably, consuming any prevailing hesitations and obliterating every doubt. She deepened their kiss, moaning against his mouth.

Something unexpected happened then. On her nightstand, her wand was calling to her, begging her to cast dark spells again. The pull was so strong that she broke their embrace and reached for it but Tom caught it before her.

The mischievous grin that appeared on his face was so alluring that she did not complain when he pinned her wrists over her head on the pillow with his free hand. "Already craving to be a bad girl again?" He tutted in disapprobation, although he was visibly pleased by her eagerness. "Lay down, and I may let you play with it later."

He brushed the tip of her wand on her lower lip, and the touch of the wood on her skin only increased the strength of the calling. "Lay down," he repeated, his amusement gone, as she tried to get a hold of her wand. She finally agreed and he let go of her wrist, busy with tracing her every feature. He dragged it down her body, unhurried, leaving a warm trail on her skin that he later followed with burning kisses, tossing the wand aside.

There was nothing cold and detached about Tom Riddle anymore. She was his playground and there was no one else allowed. Her oversensitive skin reacted to every touch, every bite, and every flick of his tongue he gifted her.

Despite his rudeness, she knew there was some part of him, deeply hidden, that was good. When he stopped, silently requesting permission Yasmina did not know she had to give at this point, her heart almost burst out of her chest. She stood on one elbow and grabbed his bicep. "Do it."

The Slytherin did not hesitate then, not even for a second, before taking what she was willingly giving him. He slid into her with a thrust of hips, unbothered by the consequences.

He was her ruination.

It didn't even hurt, but Yasmina suspected dark magic had something to do with it. She knew it was supposed to feel good after a while, but she could never have expected how deliciously full she would feel. How hungry she would be.

She should have been ashamed of the sounds that came out of her mouth, of the way she was letting herself be ruined by a man without any second thoughts. But Yasmina wasn't one for regrets. She tilted her head back and lifted her hips, giving him unrestricted access to the fullness of hers. His breath hitched. Empowered, she encircled him with her legs, resting her heels on his lower back as their hips rocked and the treacherous, sinful pleasure engulfed her.

Tom sighed in a way she would never have thought possible, and he brought her even closer, diving deeper into her, his face buried in her hair. He was hungry for her, insatiable in a way that was so out-of-character for him. At that moment, impossibly, Tom Riddle had lost his conditioned control. There was only her.

She met his mouth and he kissed back, demanding, bruising. When her nails dig into the skin of his back, his eyes were pitch black. "Plead loyalty to me."

Yasmina was unable to articulate a reply, overwhelmed by the immoral pleasure he was giving her, every thrust of his hips bringing her closer and closer to the edge of the precipice.

Oh, she was so close, her toes already curled. She knew he could tell, in the way that arrogant smirk had resurfaced again.

His thumb found the apex of her thighs, tortuously stroking it until she cried and begged for mercy. He refused to allow her that release, as he kept circling around, coming back when her breathing slowed, then leaving her again, craving in desperation when that slight tremor twitched the muscle of her leg. He was toying with her shamelessly. And he was playing so well.

His hand glided up, sliding between her breasts to her neck, around which he closed his fingers. "Plead loyalty to me," he repeated, as he rested his forehead on hers. "And I'll give you everything you want."

Everything she wanted. Every stroke of fingers, flick of tongue, and scratch of nails. Every bite and grasp, every caress and embrace. Every breath, and sigh, and moan she desired. He would give it all to her.

"Yes," she agreed, breathless.

He smiled, his teeth scraping alongside her jaw, taking all the time in the world before slowly detaching his fingers from around her neck and bringing them down again to the point where their body met.

It only took him a few touches for her to come undone, exploding in a way that defied all rationality.

Only when she dared to look away, allowing her head to rest on the pillow that he grabbed her face and jerked it towards him again. "I'm not done with you."

By sunrise, Tom Riddle had gotten everything.